


confidence & his honor

by blifuys



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Character Study, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25503256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blifuys/pseuds/blifuys
Summary: He opens the leather cover, allowing the musty scent of old, dusty pages tickle his nose. The first words of the book welcome him home. The familiarity is comforting, and it takes him back to a time where Ferdinand knew nothing beyond the lush, fertile lands of Aegir.And suddenly, he is twelve years old again.For Ferdinand, and the humble beginnings of his honor.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11
Collections: Peculiarity: FE Small Writer Zine





	confidence & his honor

Sleep evades him. 

If the loose calculations Ferdinand’s hazy mind provides him are accurate, it’s been approximately three days since he slept, at least a week longer since he’s had a restful slumber. It is the unfortunate state he’s learned to live with ever since conflict broke out, uprooting his life— _ all their lives _ —in its entirety. 

War waits for no one. He’s learned that the hard way. 

Instead of spending his time tossing and turning in his bed, feeling the sheets under his body rumple and settle around him in the way that makes the frustration lingering in his body feel poisonous, he’s taken to burning his sleepless minutes away by burying himself into paperwork. Any time wasted is time he could spend preparing for the next battle, and the next; all to avoid any unnecessary bloodshed and excess death. 

The Empire can afford these fatalities, but Ferdinand knows he could not. The names of every single person that serves under the Aegir flag are burned into his mind, along with their stories, their families, their hopes, and dreams. 

His fingers trace over the time-worn leather spines in the library. He’s looking for a book he encountered a few moons ago, one filled with old maps that will help the Empire’s potential invasion on the Leicester Alliance. It was something he brought up at their last War Council when the Strike Force discussed action against the Alliance. Against his old friend Lorenz’s wishes, he set his sights on Myrddin—a strategic location that, if they act quickly enough, would supply decisive and swift victory on their end. 

Friends. He had friends once, those who shared his determination to uphold the noble standard. There were simpler times, of course, but the faster Ferdinand forgoes these thoughts, the easier it’ll be on him when he runs his lance through the hearts of those he once considered comrades.

At some point, his finger stops on a novel. The spine is no different from any other book thus far, but something about the novel he’s paused on calls to him—beckoning him to pull it free and open it up. He should be spending his time focusing on the task at hand, but something draws him in; a siren’s call to his heart and soul. A single book will not detract or delay his efforts, he tells himself that over and over again until he finally hooks his finger into the book’s spine, tilting it out of the shelf and tugging it out.

What he sees surprises him.

_ ‘THE FIRST EMPEROR’ _

The golden words are emblazoned across the worn, crimson cover, its lustre lost to time. He knows this book very well. His own tattered copy sits somewhere in his childhood room tucked deep in the Aegir Manor, almost withered away from how often he’s turned to its words as a child—so in awe with the deeds of the main character within its pages. Perhaps it is fate that he landed on such a treasure of the past, but Ferdinand has always been a sentimental man. 

He opens the leather cover, allowing the musty scent of old, dusty pages tickle his nose. The first words of the book welcome him home. The familiarity is comforting, and it takes him back to a time where Ferdinand knew nothing beyond the lush, fertile lands of Aegir. 

And suddenly, he is twelve years old again. 

—

_ The man whom his father mumbles to in the dark is no stranger to Ferdinand. Whispers unknowingly caught in the air have fallen on Ferdinand’s young ears, telling him tales of money dealings and the occasional poisoning, He is young and carefree, yet something nags in the back of his mind—his father is not doing something good. He knows, and oh, he wishes he does not. _

_ Ferdinand flees from reality. He runs far, far away from his father and the man of the shadows. Whether driven by denial, a love for a father so cold and distant, or something else entirely—he does not know. But the young boy seeks to forget, finding solace in the book that lies on his nightstand, little marks already beginning to form in the spine and pages with how many times he’s turned to his comfort.  _

_ Within the pages, he escapes the horrors of his father, diving into tales of true courage and honor. _

_ ‘“YOUR COMPLACENCY WILL END YOU, WILHELM,” SAID NEMESIS. “YOU WILL LOSE YOUR LIFE TO ME IF YOU ACT SO RECKLESSLY.” _

_ “IT IS NOT MY LIFE I TREASURE,” WILHELM RAISES HIS SPEAR TO THE SKY, ROARING TO THE HEAVENS HIS PROCLAMATION. “MAY THE SKIES RUPTURE GLASS, MAY THE SEAS SEETHE AND DRY—ON MY HONOR AND NAME, I WILL BE THE FLAME THAT LEADS MY PEOPLE TO SANCTUARY!”’ _

— 

“I will be the flame that leads my people to sanctuary,” Ferdinand whispers to no one in particular, only spirits lingering in the library listening in to his promise. “On my honor as a noble.”

Time stops for no man, especially in war. Once upon a time, he might have permitted himself time to read to the last word, drinking in Wilhelm’s greatest adventures and fantasising of the day his own journeys become legend—but he cannot do so any more. 

The sunset-locked general closes the book, letting out a sigh as calm washes over his stiff muscles. He lives in reality now, and the legacy he leaves behind rely on how he carries the Aegir name; what he writes in the pristine pages of House Aegir’s bloodstained history will live beyond himself.

He slots the book back into its original spot. He’s wasted enough time lingering. If he speeds up his search now, he will most likely be able to present a feasible plan at the next meeting, with maps carefully scratched out on parchment and documents to aid his call to action.

A promise made, a memory restored. A flame grows brighter in the night—determination to burn until the end of suffering. Until his people see sunlight, he fights on, for that is the true duty of a noble.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so, so much to [Peculiarity](https://twitter.com/fesmallwriter) and HapSky for giving me the opportunity to participate. when i wrote this, the world was in a very, very different place--but i still have such love for my first pieces for the fandom. this particular zine will always, always be a treasured memory in my heart. 
> 
> and to **you** , for supporting me thus far. i wouldn't have done so much this year without your support. thank you so much.
> 
> [my twitter.](https://twitter.com/blifuys)


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